


I Didn't Want to.

by Noctisistrash



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noctisistrash/pseuds/Noctisistrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nageki spills out his real opinions, AU where he just narrowly misses the game's canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Didn't Want to.

I… didn’t mean to open the door, really. I didn’t want to come out. In all honesty, I’m not sure… I can’t remember… what I was doing. I think I was perhaps trying to make my point clear. I’m not sure.

But… I didn’t want to come out. I didn’t. I opened the door to hear him better- to make sure he heard _me_ better. I had no intention of ceasing my actions. I was already burned severely, I was going to go all the way.

It was because of that asshat’s quick thinking that I didn’t. He pulled me out. He pulled me out and whipped me around so I _couldn_ ’t rush back in there like I was about to when I realized my mistake. Maybe it was my fingers that delayed me. Maybe I couldn’t act fast because I was in such searing pain I couldn’t dial the keypad again to shut the door, let alone move to it and not shut us both in there.

I wanted to die. I was fully prepared to die. I was scared, of course, but I was prepared. Everything was in order, everything was going according to plan.

_Until he showed up._

He was supposed to be too late. He was supposed to be _too late_ \- and the door was supposed to be already shut, and I was supposed to be already gone. He wasn’t supposed to stop it.

I was not convinced. He, nor anybirdie else, could not fix what had happened, what would happen. “Fixing” it would not bring back the countless lives I indirectly took. He was selfish. He just wanted me to himself. He didn’t care about my feelings, my needs. He is smart and he just knew without me he couldn’t live.

Selfish bastard.

And I still love him. He ruined everything, and I love him yet. I don’t blame him, but I know it’s his fault.

And then to go and move us like that? What the fuck. Not a single question put towards me to see if I was willing- if I was _mentally sound_ enough to move. I wasn’t.

And I know it pains him. He acts like he’s the traumatized one. Like he’s the one with DID because of the shit that happened to him.

You utter the word “fire” around him, and he acts like you’ve shot a dog. And yet- he wasn’t the one. He didn’t suffer. He wasn’t cut open and prodded; he wasn’t driven to to inevitable. He wasn’t the one with countless nightmares and “overreacting” when large amounts of fire were on even the grainiest of movie screens.

But he sure as hell acts like it. He acts like it.

And he pretends like he understands; pretends like he knows. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t- can’t- will not ever understand what I have gone through. He can only pretend.

And then I feel selfish. He has to deal with me. He has to deal with my shit; he had to deal with his shitty boyfriend’s shit. He has to deal with it all. He had to grow up too fast, he had to raise me on his own. He has to pay for everything, he has to manage 3 jobs.

And, and, and. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. There’s always an and. I need this, and that. I have to do this, and that. I hate you, and I love you.

What’s my obsession with him? What’s his obsession with me? I came up with a theory the other day- that because we are constants in each others’ lives, our minds naturally cause this to happen. What else do you latch onto, than a constant?

A daily routine.

Your cat you come home to every day.

The mailman that delivers your things.

So we’re constants. Like a parental attachment, we’ve grown to expect each other. Through that, we’ve grown accustomed and attracted. It’s the same in real sibling love. It’s not a maternal love, it’s a kin love. You love them because you’ve been raised with them, and because you’ve been brought up to expect them to always be there.

Without me, he would lose it.

But I never meant for any of this to go this far. I should not have opened the door. He would not have grabbed me, and none of this would have happened. I would not have these complexities, I would not need to deal with any of this. He would go on somehow, and I would go… wherever.

But it didn’t. Because he stopped me. Because I opened that door and he thought quickly.


End file.
